The Secrets of SDC
by CaitieBug16
Summary: Inspired by the ideas of my six-year old brother and partly off of H.I.V.E., this story might be a little weird.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you _have _to go to work today?" Margie asked her older brother, Clint.

"Yes," Clint sighed.

"But you never visit us anymore!" whined Margie, stamping her foot. "Mom and I have feelings, you know. We _do_ get lonely."

"You have each other," Clint pointed out. "You should be happy. I send half the money I get to you and Mom."

"Yeah, but we want to see more of _you, _not money."

"I'll see what I can do," he said, stepping toward the door.

"You spend too much time there, Clint!" Margie yelled. Clint winced and shut the door without saying goodbye.

Link had promised Clint that he would get more time off. The Boss agreed that it was getting a little too suspicious. What twenty-three year old man spends twelve hours a day working at a restaurant? Clint and Link had come to the conclusion that something simply had to be done.

"Amelia's Best", the biggest and most popular hang out in town, was some good eating. When you were done, there was an arcade, bar, and gift shop. It had been the biggest hit since it'd been built, and still running. The owner was Nathan Shrinks, a shrewd blond middle-aged man with a cigar and a bad attitude. The only thing that he had been caught smiling in was when he played Zelda games, and since then, people called him Link, because he never smiled and he didn't say much. Clint Bryant happened to be the manager of the restaurant, but that was a small title compared to what the place actually was.

"Morning, Bryant," Robert Smalls called to him, waving as he scanned his ID into the hidden scanner at the wall of the building next to the door. To a person walking by, they would think that he was just waving to his friend, and not sliding a laminated card into a crack in the brick with his other hand behind him. All the employees of Amelia's Best knew to move with extreme caution in signing in in the mornings.

"Good morning," Clint replied without much enthusiasm. He clicked the button on his keys and his BMW locked and beeped twice a couple meters behind. He walked up to the door where Robert was, and carefully making sure his body blocked all view from prying outsiders, slid his own ID into the scanner in the brick. The automatic doors opened, and both young men stepped in.

"I wonder what Lilly is having us cook today," Robert commented. "You know, this really does get tedious, pretending that we're a restaurant. "

"Shh!" Someone hissed from behind them, and both men looked around to Caty.

"When did you get here?" Clint asked her.

"Couple minutes ago," she said casually, then glared at Robert. "Listen, dope, don't forget we have about fifty workers that don't even know about SDC. "

"I know, I know," he said quickly, trying anything to get Caty's fiery gaze off of him.

"Why do we need them, anyway?" Clint asked.

"And why doesn't she take out her ridiculous ponytails?" Robert added, a hint of a smile betraying the innocent question.

Caty gave him a look and gingerly touched her long brown ponytails that hung to her back. "Because they would touch the floor if I didn't," she said indignantly, but Clint could tell she was hurt.

Robert shrugged. "Fewer men to clean the floors," he grinned, and dodged the Prada purse that was swung at him. "How old are you, seven?"

"Knock it off, guys," Clint said. "We have work to do."

"Right. And who doesn't?" Caty said. At that moment, a plump woman with her black hair in a hairnet came running.

"Catherine, we have a serious problem in the kitchens. You must come quickly before opening time!"

Ignoring the looks the boys gave each other upon hearing her real name, Caty replied, "Of course, Lilly," and disappeared down the corridor.

"I'm extremely disappointed in you," Link murmured, looking the man infront of him straight in the eye. "When I'm disappointed, bad things happen."

The man visibly swallowed. "Please, sir, give me another chance. I've been trying for the last three months and-"

"Have failed," Link cut him off calmly, lighting a cigar.

"One more chance," the man pleaded desperately.

"It's always one more chance. Sooner or later, you must stop asking for chances and realize that you're just incompetent. I have no use for people like this." The man's eyes widened in horror as Link snapped his fingers. Two robots entered the room and each grasped one of the man's arms. As they dragged him out, he cried, "Someday, Nathan, SDC will be ruined!" The rest of his rambling was drowned out by the automatic doors that hissed shut behind them.

Link refilled his coffee cup angrily and demanded to his secretary over the phone that she let the next person in.

"Ah, Jacques," he said as a young man with shaggy brown hair stepped in. This was a man that would die before he let his boss down.

"You sent for me?" he asked politely. That was just like him. Always quick to get to the point.

"Something has arisen. " Link paused for effect. "Doctor McWallis was recently in a car crash."

"That is rather unfortunate, "Jacques replied, interested. "Was he killed?"

"He is in the nearby hospital in a coma." He picked up an old notebook. "This is his." There was silence in the room, so Link went on. "It is in code. His daughter, Kylie, worked with him on all of the brilliant ideas in this book, and helped him code them. She is the only other person in the world who can decode it for us. The exhibition is in only three days, and SDC will not be left behind. You see why I can't just wait for the Doctor to come to."

"I'm afraid I don't fully understand what the problem is," Jacques replied. "Why not just invite her here?"

"She seems to have really gotten into the recent 'go green' trend," Link explained, "and has convinced herself that our business and others like it pollute the earth." Link lit another cigar. "And I'm not denying it. But she simply refuses to come, and we can't have that, can we?"

"So you sent for me to retrieve her."

"Precisely." Link knew that he'd catch on sooner or later.

"Cake." Jacques smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary, Kylie wrote.

Why me? Poor Daddy, stuck in his mind with no way out. He can't even hear me! Alone, leaving his own baby girl to take care of the house. I wish he'd get better. Oh, why did he have to go in the car with those men? The crash would have never happened. Now SDC wants me to decipher the code for them! Never! It is a place of evil, Daddy knows that now. It wasn't back then when he first joined, but Shrinks came and shook it up. The U.S. government would give anything to find them, but if we told, agents of SDC would get to us faster than the FBI could get to them. That's why we don't. It's hard to live without Dad. I shouted to him this morning, only to realize he was still at the Hospital. How much longer is he going to be like this? I visit him every day. I sit here in this chair, thinking

Kylie never wrote what she was thinking in that chair, because at that moment, there was a knock at her front door. She instinctively jumped; a trait both she and her father carried, the mark of a scientist. Gathering her wits, the blonde stood up, patted her hair and smoothed out her lab coat in a last attempt to look presentable, and made her way to the door. She looked into the peephole in the door, but no one was there. She opened it up and looked around, thinking it must have been the local kids playing Ding-Dong Ditch. Turning around, she found herself face to face with a strikingly handsome young man about her age. In her house.

Looking around, he said, "The house of Doctor McWallis, I presume? It's an honor to be here." He then looked her straight in the eye, which gave her chills. His piercing brown eyes were the exact color of his hair. He smiled at the dumbstruck girl. "And you must be none other than Kylie McWallis."

Blushing furiously, Kylie said, "You are correct. Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"I understand the Doctor is out of commission currently?" He asked, totally ignoring Kylie.

"Perhaps I didn't make this clear enough for you. Get out of my house." She gestured to the open door.

He stopped observing the house and rested his gaze on her. Not looking away, he walked over and shut the door.

"What's your problem?" She said, struggling to keep her voice from rising. Fear encased her slowly. Alone, with a boy, door shut… "Do you not hear what I'm saying to you?"

"I'll ask the questions," he said with a look that froze blood. "Sit." Gesturing toward a nearby armchair, he said it as if it were his home, and not Kylie's. Nonetheless, seeing that he was armed with a gun on his belt, she obeyed. He picked up her open diary and flipped through it.

She groaned in protest. "What do you want? And what kind of sick person would leaf through a girl's diary he doesn't even know?"

"Everyone at SDC knows you and your father, Kylie," he replied softly, almost ominously as he looked up from the diary, meeting her eyes. She shivered.

"Again, who are you?"

"I thought we agreed that I would ask the questions." He looked up from the diary again, almost annoyed.

"I should have known you were with those rats. SDC is none of my business, only my father's."

"Your writing suggests differently," he said with a sly smile, setting her diary down. She blushed again. "The point is, Kylie, you know the code. We need the code. Simple as that." He peered right into her eyes.

"I'm not going to bend to the will of men who only want to corrupt the Earth and make a profit doing so," she spat.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"I was sent to get you to headquarters," he said, glaring, "and by God, I'm not about to fail. I tried to be civil about this, but if you won't be reasonable, I'll have to take action." His hand twitched toward the gun on his belt.

"You wouldn't dare," she said, sounding a lot more confident than she felt.

His eyes glittered. "Is that a challenge?"

_What are you doing?_ Kylie asked herself. _You're about to get yourself killed._ "No," she sighed, and sank back down in the armchair.

Her opponent smiled. "I didn't think so." He offered his hand to help her up, and, confused, she lent hers to him. He ushered her out the door to a sleek black vehicle, a ride that suited the personality of Kylie's captor most appropriately. Before she could do anything, her hands were forced behind her back, and metal rings closed around each of her wrists. "Only a precaution," he assured her smoothly as he shut the car door, "so you won't try any particular stunts while I'm driving."

It was lunch time, and after a full morning of running the Restaurant, Clint was hungry.

"Yo, Clint!" Robert greeted his friend with a high five as he sat down.

"Can you be a little quieter?" Caty asked irritably. "Some of us would like to keep our ears intact."

"What's her ish?"Robert looked to Clint.

He shrugged. "She's just grumpy because she hasn't gotten her paycheck."

"No, it's because my boyfriend isn't back yet. He was supposed to be back by n-"

"Hold up. You have a boyfriend?" Robert interrupted, a mix between startled and dismayed. This was also news to Clint.

"Yes," she said, flipping her hair, "I do."

"And how come we've never met him?" Robert growled, now sounding irritable too.

She shrugged. "It's not my fault you both are never around when I see him."

Robert was about to question her more of the subject on her new mysterious lover, but at that moment, a pretty Latino girl sat down at their table.

"Hi, Clint," she gushed, winking and making him blush. Caty and Robert groaned quietly from across the circular table.

"Um, hey, Margarita," Clint replied, brushing some blond hair out of his eyes.

"Don't bother," Margarita said, brushing the rest of the hair aside, taking care to stress that she was running her fingers through his hair. Robert looked like he might throw up, and Caty looked like she might seriously hurt somebody. Clint sent a look that said _Help!_ to his friends, but strangely, they wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Did I hear something about a boyfriend?" She asked, her eyes sparkling. "I have my own plans for that." She glanced at Clint for the briefest of moments. Robert obviously had had enough.

Standing up, he said, "Supposedly Caty has a new guy. I'm done, let's go, guys." Clint didn't need to be told twice. Standing up, he shivered inwardly as Margarita's hand grazed his. Something about the woman had freaked him out since he had known her, which unfortunately, had been a while now.

"Bye, Clint," she breathed, sadness in every word.

"See you." Without hesitation, he turned his back and jogged to catch up with his friends, who were halfway to the door.

"Something about her just sets me off," Caty mumbled thoughtfully.

"Maybe it's that she's gaga for Clint and obsessed to the point of no return?" Robert suggested, shuddering.

"No, no," Caty said. "Well, yeah, but it's like she's faking it, like overdoing an acting part in a play."

Clint nodded. "I've come to that conclusion too."

"_I_ think she's psycho," Robert said, "and I sure as heck wouldn't want to be her crush." He glanced at Clint, who shrugged.

"Whatever she's doing, she's trying too hard," Caty mumbled suspiciously. "I want to find out what."

"Are you kidding? The only thing she's trying too hard to do is to get Clint to be her boyfriend."

Clint shuddered. "Robert, man, please don't say that word." Robert grinned.

Caty glanced at her wristwatch and gasped. "I'm late!" She got up and rushed off before her two friends could say anything.

"Late for what?" Clint asked, looking quizzically at Robert.

He shrugged, shaking his head. "Women."


	3. Chapter 3

"Come in."

The doors opened and Jacques strolled in, a smug expression on his face. Behind him a droid dragged in a blonde female in a white lab coat. Link's face softened as the bot threw her to the ground. She cried out in pain.

"Miss McWallis. There would have been no good reason for us to interfere today if you had shown up at the appointed time. We thought you were capable of one simple task."

"Well, you were wrong," she spat, shaking as she stood up. From anger or pain, Link didn't know. "I'm not capable of doing anything for this company if it involves making a profit."

He leaned in. "You _will _give us the code. Even if I have to take measures I don't want to take. Miss McWallis, this can be very simple. I don't want to hurt you. Your father and I are very good friends. We will release you as soon as the code is broken."

Her face grew red. "You will _release_ me? Am I a _prisoner_ now? What has this company become? I cannot believe that this is the same place I used to volunteer at as a child."

"Times have changed. Please, don't make this hard for either of us. Let's be done and get it over with."

"This is evil, and I won't be a part of it."

"Yes, Miss McWallis, I'm quite afraid you will." Link snapped his fingers, and the robot again clamped his hands around her wrists. Jacques and Link's faces were stone as the struggling young woman was led away.

When the doors were closed, Link sighed and rubbed his temples. Jacques spoke up.

"Your past blinds you."

"I just don't want to cause hurt to her. She's been through so much already." Link knew that it was safe to confide in Jacques. He knew Jacques would die before he told a living soul.

"Whether you want to or not, it's for the good of the company. If anything, we must not lose the exhibition. "

"I'm aware. You are dismissed. Nice job today, Jacques."

Jacques nodded in acceptance and showed himself to the door.

"Next," Link drawled into the desk microphone when he was sure Jacques had left.

The double automatic doors to his office hissed open again to reveal a rather tall woman with shiny, long black hair.

"Anything unusual? You're late _again._"

"I apologize once more, sir. Something got in my way."

"Oh?"

"The assignment."

Link chuckled. "And what about our little subject?"

"Nothing's the matter. He's completely normal."

"His fellow employees?"

"Just people like me trying to make a living," she said with a grim smile.

"Double check. _Nothing_ must get in the way of the showing on Friday."

She nodded. "I understand that, sir. Rest assured. There's absolutely nothing to worry about."

Link just nodded and puffed his cigar, not believing a word of it. Darla and Charles had brought him a warning saying that the man they were discussing had given them reason to believe he was a spy for their rival business. He must not know about the code or about keeping the McWallis girl hostage to get it.

"Dismissed. Report in again tomorrow. See if you can…get closer to him."

The woman smiled wickedly and strutted to the door in her stiletto heels, in which she walked out, leaving Nathan Shrinks once again alone in his office.

At the same time, a seventeen year old girl in a white lab coat was lying down on a couch in a small enclosed room that was locked from the outside. The accommodations were decent, she admitted to herself grudgingly. The sofa was also comfy; if she were there by her own choice the room would even have been cozy. But, as she would tell you if she got the chance, she was not. She was a prisoner, captive by her father's own co-workers. If her father hadn't been in a coma, she thought, it would be him in her place right now.

"I trust you have thought over our extremely simple requests," a young man's soothing voice flooded the room as the door hissed open. Kylie didn't have to look up to know it was the man who had brought her here.

"We never had the chance to be properly introduced," he went on, taking Kylie's stony silence as a sign to do so. "I'm known as Jacques in this society."

"Did you come here to talk about yourself?" Kylie retorted. "Because if not, you can leave."

"I like that spunky side of you, Kylie," Jacques said with a smirk.

"Get out. If you're not going to torture me or anything cliché like that, then leave me alone. You're not any closer to getting the code than Shrinks is, and any attempt at banter with me isn't going to help your chances at all."

Jacques said nothing at first. "But what if the banter wasn't just to improve my chances at getting the code?" He asked slyly, and she blushed. She hated the way he made her feel when he did this. He reminded her of oil; thick, brown, greasy, slippery oil. Yuck!

"Get out," she growled. "Get out or I'll bite you."

"I'd _love_ to see you attempt it."

"GET OUT!"

Jacques walked out of the room, taking care to set the lock back on the virtual keypad on the screen next to the door. A young woman in an apron met him there.

"How's she faring?"

"Shhh!" Jacques looked around for security cameras before he scolded her. "You're not even supposed to know."

"Yes, yet how _do_ I know?" she was grinning wildly, hugging him.

"Because I told you," Jacques sighed, accepting her hug. She was so simple, she was cute.

"It's so fun to have a boyfriend that knows all the company secrets," she giggled.

"By the way, if you tell anyone, I'm dead."

"Which is so why I'm not telling anyone."

"Right."

They walked along the East Wing of the building, like they usually did, but today, Jacques' thoughts were elsewhere. His mind was still at the door to Kylie's cell. He loved the anger-based flame that went up behind her eyes every time he spoke about her giving up the code. He enjoyed the thrill of the threat, a challenge, especially since he hadn't had one in a very long time. So quite naturally his thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier conversation they had had. What could he have said better? Maybe if-

"Jacques? You haven't been listening to me!"

"Sorry, I've had a hard day."

She kissed him. "I know you have, baby. I'm sorry. Do you get the rest of the evening off?"

"Yes. I'm going home and resting. I'll call you later if I'm awake."

"Okay." They were now at the breezeway that led to the front door and the entrance to the kitchens where she worked. "Rest up, and I'll talk to you later. Unfortunately for me, I have to work 'til eight tonight." She kissed him again. "Bye, Jacques. I love you."

"Love you too," Jacques replied, but the words seemed empty to him, meaningless, and foreign. "Bye, Caty."


	4. Chapter 4

"No way."

"Yeah way."

"Seriously?"

"You think I'm kidding?"

"There's no way," Clint said, looking around.

"I'm telling you man, there's no other deal," Robert shrugged, shaking his head. "These are the only tickets in the state."

"How much did you get them for?"

"Two for fifty," Robert shrugged.

"I would never have paid that much."

"One, you've never been to a game. Two, you're a cheap-o anyway." Robert grinned.

"Don't you have class that night?"

"Nope." He beamed. "No classes on Saturdays anymore."

"Wow." Clint shook his head. "They've really lowered the bar since I graduated."

"Hey, I've only got this year to finish out," Robert pointed out. "Then I'm home free."

"Wait till your loans catch up with you," Clint told him with a chuckle, washing his hands in the kitchen sink.

With a bang of the doors, Caty rushed in as a buzzer sounded. "Not late, not late..."

Clint glanced at his wristwatch. "Five on the dot." Then he yelled to address the other sixty people in the kitchen. "Alright! Everyone up! Dinner rush starts _now!"_

Like a spell had been broken, men and women walked calmly to their assigned station, chatting animatedly with others while they pulled on gloves and hairnets. Clint walked to the sauté station and instantly started barking orders. Robert put on an apron and strolled to the sauce station where he worked, and Caty hastened with her hairnet and hopped to her station, which delt in desserts and salads.

"Everything's running smoothly?" Link asked his secretary, who was currently off her shift and undercover.

Marci slipped her sunglesses off. "Yes, sir. The dinner rush has started and it's a full house tonight."

"Good." Link smiled. He did so love it when things were going well. "Would you-? Oh yes, you're off duty, nevermind." He leaned over and spoke into the mic on his desk. "Louise, page Jacques up to my office."

"I honestly don't like him, sir," Marci shuddered.

"Well, that doesn't really matter, does it, as long as the work gets done?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry, sir."

"If you don't want to be in the room with him, you could make yourself useful and fetch me a cream soda."

"It would be my pleasure, sir." The brunette with shoulder-length hair walked out of the office. Not twenty seconds after, Jacques strolled in.

"I was just on my way out."

"My apologies. Before you leave today I want you to take the first step in extracting the code from our little princess."

Jaques cringed. "Beg your pardon, sir, but since when was I in charge of her exctraction?"

"Since I sent you to get her here. She is your responsibility, and by that I mean I better have the information we need by Friday morning. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly," Jacques said, stony-faced. Link could not tell what the young man was feeling.

"Dismissed. Report in tomorrow."

Jacques nodded a curt nod and departed from the room, shrieking curses to the ceiling in his head. He dreaded seeing her again. Remembering her expression on his last visit, he rounded the corner and about scared the jeebers out of Link's secretary.

"Sorry," he apologized as she sidestepped him gingerly. _You just can't do anything right,_ he told himself silently. He tried to walk slowly on his way to the holding cells, but that did not stop him from eventually getting there. Now he faced the doors. The virtual lock. The unlock authorization code. The doors opening. The girl...

"I don't want to be here either," he cut her off as she opened her mouth to say something. "I'm here on orders."

"What do you want." It was not a question, it was a demand.

"You know what I want," he whispered, coming over to kneel beside her. She wouldn't look at him. "Kylie," he said her name. She visibly shivered. "Both of our lives would be so much easier if you could just give up a teensy little code."

"Go away."

"I don't want to do this."

Her head turned sharply to him, blue eyes like saucers boring into his. He almost couldn't say it. "If you can't give us the code, I'm commanded to persuade you."

"Do your worst," she said with gritted teeth.

"Please," he whispered, glancing around for camaras. "You don't want to go through with this."

"You're not getting the code."

"Yes, we are. Don't say I didn't warn you, Miss McWallis." He snapped his fingers, and two human-sized droids came in the room. The door slid shut behind them and locked with a "click". Jacques stepped back as the girl struggled fruitlessly to get away from the robots that dug their metallic fingers into her arms. She screamed.

"Soundproof room; scream all you like," Jacques said calmly with no emotion. Angry tears swam in the girl's eyes, and she bared her teeth like an animal. Jacques averted his gaze from the blood than now ran down her arms. He made a guesture to the robots, and Kylie screamed in agony. Jacques winced, almost like the pain was his. As Jacques left the room two hours later, Kylie's shrieks still echoed in his mind, haunting him.

"Hey, Jacques," Margarita cooed to him in the lobby as he made his way toward the employee exit.

"Link wants you in his office."

She pouted. "I can't do anything in life without that-"

"Camaras," Jacques warned, and she stopped.

"Thanks, Jacques," she beamed at him. "Did you...?"

"No. She wouldn't say anything."

"Let me try." Margarita smiled wickedly, twirling a black curl around her finger.

Jacques shrugged, taking out a card from his pocket. "Here. This'll work since you don't know the code."

She smiled, taking it from him. "Night, Jacques."

He drove home anxious that night. Why would she not just give up the code? Then she would be sent home or relocated or something and Jacques would never have to see her again. He would be happy when this whole ordeal was over. He liked those quiet moments of talk at the McWallis house, and didn't like seeing her in pain. He wanted her out of there, but his will had been shattered by fear a long time ago. It would be traced back to Jacques if he told anyone. He was the only one that knew what she was enduring. He shuddered to think what would happen if Caty found out.

He didn't get much sleep that night.

It was ten o'clock PM, Amelia's Best's closing time. Sighing in the empty kitchen, Clint had just finished cleaning up and, swinging a towel over his shoulder, flicked off the lights and walked out through the swinging doors of the kitchen and into the lobby. A woman was singing- loudly- and the echos of her voice rumbled through the lobby and to Clint's ears. It was in another language- Spanish, perhaps? After the song, a blood-freezing cackle swept from the hallways beyond. Clint shuddered. He knew who it was.

The sound of stiletto heels clinking on the tile flooring came closer and closer; Clint felt the fleeting urge to hide. Even though he told himself he was being ridiculous, he followed through with his gut reaction, and took cover behind the kitchen doors. He dared peek through the circular window and saw her, Margarita, strutting carelessly to the employee exit doors. She had to stop, however, to dig into her purse for something. A numerous amount of things fell out, and when she had gotten her keys, she bent down to pick them up and stuff them back, then left. Why had Clint hid? There had been nothing suspicious. As he stepped back into the lobby, a flash of light caught his eye. He walked over and to his surprise saw a laminated code card. He didn't recognize it, so it didn't have anything to do with the restaurant. He picked it up and looked over it suspiciously, flipping it to the back. It had SDC's logo on it.

_Margarita must have dropped it,_ Clint thought, looking back at the doors. He searched for anything else she could have dropped, but it seemed the card was the only thing. It looked similar to the card Clint used to get into his office. Was it too a key-card? Did it have a number like Clint's? He turned it over, and near the bar code were the tiny printed numbers 713.

"Seven thirteen," Clint whispered to himself, searching his surroundings as if someone were watching him. Seven thirteen. The Basement.

The Basement was the seven floors of Amelia's Best that went underground. SDC. The seventh floor was the last; the one closest to the center of the earth. The part Clint wasn't supposed to know about.

He was the manager of Amelia's Best. He wasn't supposed to know what the place actually was. What SDC was. But he knew because of his parents. They had worked there and told him about it several years ago, when he was still in highschool. With a shudder, Clint looked away from the card- and back at it again. What was in 713?

There was no one here but the janitors for Amelia's Best. Clint could easily slip into the system...

_No, the security camaras,_ Clint reasoned with himself. _It's probably an office or something. _But then, why would Margarita have it? She worked in the resturaunt, she didn't have an office...Clint suddenly felt a burst of curiosity. He _had_ to find out what was in that room. He would have to disable the camaras.

Clint checked out of Amelia's Best in deep thought. Taking the exit off the highway, Clint reached for his Blackberry Storm, and without taking his eyes off the road speed-dialed Caty.

"Hello?"

"Caty. Do you know anything about disabling security camaras?"

"Only that it sounds like a really bad idea. What happened?"

"I found...Oh, nevermind. The story's too long to tell you while I'm driving." Clint swerved, keeping himself from veering off the road.

"You're _driving?_ Clint!"

"Can I stop at your place?"

"Clint, it's almost twelve."

"This will only take a few minutes."

"Fine. See you."

"Bye."

When he got to Caty's apartment, Robert was already there. "I figured he was going to be needed," Caty shrugged. So Clint explained to them all that had transpired, and afterwards Caty's eyebrows were knit together so tightly and Robert's brow was furrowed so intently that Clint had to laugh.

"What you've got can lead to two things," Caty said thoughtfully. "Margarita's not really an Amelia's Best employee, or she's sneaking into SDC."

"Either way, she's outta' line and it's none of our business," Robert pointed out. But Caty and Clint weren't listening.

"I have to find out," Clint said. "It'll be the death of me."

"We'll be fired if we're caught."

"I know," Clint admitted, knowing that wasn't all Link would do.

Caty remained awake that night, even long after the boys were gone. She knew the guilt inside was only going to get bigger if she dwelt on it. The fact was, she knew what was inside the room 713. She just didn't want to say because she too, like Clint, was afraid of what would happen. She knew Robert hadn't been too thrilled with the idea of breaking into SDC; it was only Clint she had to worry about. He mustn't know what was behind those doors. That was a company secret, a secret Caty wasn't supposed to know. She knew about SDC because of Jacques, and Jacques alone. She would never betray him like that.

_This is a dangerous game I'm playing,_ she thought into the silent darkness. _A game that we're all playing._


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm going to find out what that card unlocks," Clint said to himself, hanging up his coat.

"What _what _unlocks?"

Clint spun around to see his sister Margie, who was lounging on the couch.

"Nothing. Work stuff," Clint said shortly.

Margie scowled. "Tell me what you've found."

"It's _confidential_," he said, frowning. "What are you doing up this late?"

"I think you mean 'early'," she replied, checking her wristwatch, "since it's one o'clock A.M."

"Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"That's _confidential," _Margie drawled in the same snide tone Clint had used not a few seconds before.

"Not funny," Clint said, and closed the door to his old room, now the study. Margie stood up and walked over to her brother's coat. The pockets didn't reveal anything but fuzz. She took out her cell phone and typed in a string of numbers. She hit send and waited a few seconds, holding the phone to her ear. There was no dial tone, and it went straight to voicemail.

"Hi! This is Rebecca Jean! Please leave your name and number, and I'll-"

Margie closed the flip-phone, not wanting to hear any more. She sighed, knowing it was worth a try. Guilt consumed her, and soon she had to get out of the house just to stand herself. Margie looked up at the starry night sky, wishing with all her heart that the real Kylie could be in that cell in SDC instead of Rebecca.

Caty woke up with a text message on her phone; it said: _Caty r u goin to the game on sat_

She sighed, hating how Robert insisted on using Text Talk. _No, I'm not._ She replied, and hit send. A minute later there was a beep from her phone.

_Aw why it would be fun_

_Not really, _she answered, getting irritated. It wasn't even seven o'clock yet; couldn't he wait till _after _she got to work to bug her?

_ok watev_

_ See you at work, _Caty texted, going through her dryer for a clean towel and heading toward the bathroom for a shower.

Things were a bit different at SDC.

"I can't find it!" Margarita screamed, panicked, to Link. He sat, appearing calm but furious on the inside. The woman began digging frantically in her purse again.

"You better hope that gets back to me today," Shrinks growled. Margarita gulped, tears streaming down her face.

"P-please, sir-"

"Get out."

She ran from the room, bawling, as Jacques stepped in. His eyes widened as she passed him, and when the doors closed Jacques demanded, "What was that about?"

"It seems that the card-key you lent to Margarita yesterday has been lost."

Jacques' face suddenly paled. "I-"

"I don't have time to deal with you at the moment," Link cut him off angrily, "which I suppose gives you more time to save your life. You'd be more than difficult to replace, but not impossible. I _better _have that key back by closing time tonight, along with the information we need for tomorrow, or you and Margarita both will not be seen much longer. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, sir," Jacques said, starting to shake. His cool, composed grip on things was starting to slip, and not only was his job at stake now but also his life.

"Good. Dismissed."

Caty's cell phone rang in her purse. "I'm driving!" She yelled, "Leave me alone!" Only when she had parked her Lexus did she look at the caller ID. "What is Clint...?" she trailed off, speed-dialing him back.

"Hello?"

"You called me?" She said, somewhat annoyed. "I'm sorry, I was _driving_."

"Are you going to come with me today?"

"Um...?"

"Oh hang on, I see you. You're in the parking lot."

Caty looked up and saw Clint on the front steps of the restaurant, who waved. She ended the call and walked towards him after making sure her car was securely locked. Robert met them at the steps too.

"Hey man, did you call me?" Robert asked Clint. "Sorry I couldn't pick up, I couldn't find the phone. It was under my freaking jacket, dude, how lame is that?"

"Are you guys coming with me today?" Clint asked, sliding the card cautiously from his jacket pocket.

Caty sighed, knowing what he wanted to do. "No."

"Me either, man," Robert replied, shaking his head. "Way too risky, m'friend. Or I would."

"I'll go by myself then," Clint said quietly. "After closing time."

Caty and Robert shared a worried look.


	6. Chapter 6

"She still won't talk?" Shrinks yelled into the phone. "The Exhibition is the day after tomorrow! I don't have time to deal with you bumbling idiots. No, you _will _extract the information from her, or it will be _you _in that cell!" He slammed down the phone. "I am _surrounded_ by incompetent fools."

The outcome of the company depended on them winning the Exhibition. He _had_ to have the McWallis Code! He had a company to run, he didn't have time to remote-control everyone to get things done. That's why he had Jacques, but Jacques for some reason wasn't doing his job. Slackers were _not _tolerated in SDC, and never would be. The only downside was Jacques would be hard to replace...

A fifteen year old girl shouted to the sky in her front yard that morning, her short frizzy brown hair quivering. She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose that had been falling off in her distress. "I...I can't take it anymore." She stomped back into the house. "Mommmmm!"

Cera Bryant rushed out of the master bedroom, furious. "Margretta Jane Bryant, you're supposed to be at school!"

_ "_But that's not my name, is it?" Margie shrieked. "_That's not my real name!"_

Cera instantly lost all the color in her face. "No, dear. No. Your name is Margretta."

"No it isn't and you know it!" Margie screamed, close to tears. "My name is Kylie McWallis."

Her mother sank down in a chair. "How do you know?" she whispered.

"Do you think I wouldn't find out?" She hissed, tears streaming down her face. "When my science teacher is my father?"

"Jonah," Cera gasped.

"Yeah. _Jonah McWallis._ Do you pay attention to me at all, mom? Is Clint just the better child? Is he so much more important than me that I can go to study and have dinner at my teacher's house and you don't give a second thought about it? Yeah mom, I found out. I found it _all_ out."

"Tell me," Cera hissed. "Tell me what you know. You haven't told Clint, have you?"

"No," Margie growled. "_Dad_ swore me to secrecy. After he told me, he showed me my birth certificate. And he showed me the pictures. Yes, mom. You as Cera McWallis and my brother as Clint McWallis. We were one big happy family. And then what happened? You divorced him."

"I'm not as heartless as you make me seem," Cera hissed. "It tore me apart."

"What made you do it?" Margie demanded. "Surely Clint must remember."

Cera shook her head. "Jonah paid for a memory wipe. But I didn't want to forget, so he let me..." She put her head in her hands.

"I've been seeing him for a long time," Margie said. "I've known who he is for more than a year now. It's only now that I've popped."

"I'm so sorry, Margie. SDC is too dangerous. Too dangerous to bring up my kids..." The brunette started to cry.

"Mom." Margie came and put a hand on her shoulder. "Something terribly wrong is going on. It was Dad's plan, but I'm not comfortable with it at all, and now I'm afraid someone is getting hurt because of me. Drive me to SDC, mom."

Cera looked up, her face tear-stained and frightened. "_Oh_ no," she said, shaking her head and standing up. "Young lady, _you're_ going to school."

"Clint, please don't do this," Caty said, walking briskly beside him into the lobby. Clint was ignoring her. "Please! You could die because of this. Are you listening to me? _Die!_ Think of your family! Clint!"

"Hush," Clint told her, and Robert popped up next to him.

"The Man will do away with you if you're caught, buddy. Please do this for us."

Clint shook his head determinedly. "I _have to_ find out what the key card unlocks." He eyed both of his friends. "If you guys won't come, I'll go myself."

"What if it turns out to be a janitors closet or something?" Robert asked.

"Then why would Margarita have it?" Clint replied without missing a beat.

"It doesn't matter why Margarita would have it!" Caty cried, exasperated. "It's obviously her business and not ours."

"I thought you guys would enjoy something like this," Clint said with a disappointed sigh.

"You know I love a good story dude, but when it involves me..." Robert trailed off, looking to Caty for backup. She rolled her eyes.

"What dorko over there's trying to say is that he's a coward and for a good reason. Does the word _murder_ mean anything to you?" Caty shuddered. "You don't know what goes on in there, Clint."

"And you do?" he shot back, irritated. "This is my chance to find out."

"You don't want to know," she said. "Please, Clint."

He shook his head. "No. I'm going after closing time. Today."

"You _must_ give me the code," Jacques begged the young woman in her cell. The only thing missing was the hands-and-knees part.

"I can't," she said smugly. "Do what you want with me."

He sat next to her on the couch. Very close. "I'm not sure you'd like that."

"Oh shut up," she said uncomfortably. "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't. Why can't you? It would save more than two people's lives today."

"Whose?" she challenged, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones. Jacques felt a thrill up his spine.

"Well...a co-worker of mine, and my own."

Her expression softened. "I'm so sorry."

"That's all you can say?" he asked, standing up and pacing the room, trying to be a man about this. "I'm about to be killed and all you can say is you're sorry."

"But I am," she said quietly, "because I am not Kylie McWallis."

Jacques, dumbfounded, stared at her. She got up triumphantly and looked him in the eye.

"My name is Rebecca Jean McWallis and I am the great scientist's niece, who has no talent for science whatsoever and is an English major. I love my family, Jacques, enough to take the place of my cousin in this hellhole. So you see that I can't give you the code because I don't know what it is."

"I-I..." Jacques studdered.

"Our plan was for me to hold out until the Exhibition was over, but I think the information I just gave you is enough to save your life."

"Why...why would you do that?" he blurted out. He was humbled by this girl who would have herself go through torture to help her family, and also ruin the plan for _him_.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just know it's the right thing to do. Now go, make something up. You tortured me into it. He might not believe you so you have to make it genuine."

Jacques walked over to her, her huge yet stubborn eyes sparkling. He suddenly obtained the urge to kiss her...but immediately dispelled the thought. "Do you want me to leave the door open?" He asked quietly.

"No," Rebecca replied, taking a step away from him as if reading his thoughts. "I'm still the prisoner, you know. It'll all be ruined if I escape."

"I won't forget this," he said.

"Neither will I," she answered, with a look that said _You better come back._ He didn't plan on letting her down.


	7. Chapter 7

Margie walked out of the lobby of her school from the back exit. She retrieved her cell phone from her hoodie pocket and looked into her contacts. From there she pressed the button that dialed the number.  
"Hello?"  
"Caty Greenway?" Margie asked in the most professional tone she could muster.  
"Yes? Who is this?"  
"My name is...M-Margie Bryant," she replied hesitantly.  
"Who?"  
"Margie Bryant, Clint's younger sister. Please, _please_ pick me up. You're my only hope."  
"How did you get my number?" Ms. Greenway's reply was stern, as if she knew the girl wasn't supposed to be calling her.  
"Clint's phone," she answered, somewhat impatiently. "I understand you're his co-worker?"  
"Yes, but if you needed a ride, why didn't you call _him?"_  
"Because he mustn't find out about this," she said urgently. "Clint can't know. I'm at Woolfolk High. _Please_ pick me up."  
"Let's say I take the time off work to come and get you, a girl I only know by reputation. And let's say you are who you say you are, and this isn't a trap. Where do you need to go?"  
"SDC," Margie whispered.

"She's _not Kylie McWallis?"_  
"No, sir," Jacques said, unwavering. "Her name is Rebecca Jean, the Doctor's niece."  
Link sighed and rubbed his temples. "What a mess."  
"I agree," Jacques found the courage to say, knowing he was of the hook and sinking into an armchair.  
"And you made her tell you this?"  
"Yes, sir," he replied, expression unreadable.  
"Torture session?"  
"Yes, sir."  
Shrinks looked up. "If we lose the Exhibition," he murmered, "it will be the end of SDC."  
"I'm aware, sir."  
"And if that isn't Kylie McWallis," he continued, "Then Jonah's had this planned out for months. He knew that we'd come for him eventually." Link swore loudly, slamming his fist on the desk. "_That_ means he's hid his daughter well. _Very well._ Jacques," he addressed the young man infront of him.  
"Sir?"  
A smile slowly crossed his face, a Grinch smile Jacques didn't care for at all. "The girl will come for her cousin. If she knows about it, she will come."  
"How do you know, sir?" Jacques asked, his stomach churning.  
"You forget how long I've known Doctor McWallis. If I know Jonah at all, it's that he's never let his family out of his sight. They're nearby, Jacques, and they know."  
"Yes, sir."  
"You're dismissed."  
Jacques nodded and walked away, keeping his cool until he had left the room. _I have to warn Rebecca,_ was his first thought, and he jogged down the corridor toward the holding cells of SDC. 

"_Please, _Clint!"  
Clint whirled on Caty, beyond irritated. "Will you _shut up! _I've told you a million times that there's nothing you or Robert can do to stop me."  
"It's 'cause I'm black, isn't it?" Robert said teasingly.  
Clint frowned at him, not in the mood. "No, it's not. Why would it be? I'm going whether you both like it or not."  
"We just want you safe, Clint," Caty said quietly. "We're your friends."  
"If you guys were real friends, you'd come with me," Clint retorted angrily, and stomped away to the kitchens, leaving the other two in the middle of the lobby.  
Caty, hurt and distraught, began to cry, and Robert eveloped her in his arms silently as she did so. Caty fumbled with her phone, pulling it from her pocket and dialing. She leaned her head on Robert's shoulder as the dial tone sounded.  
"Hello?"  
"Margie, this is Caty Greenway." She sniffed and brushed away a tear. "I'm coming."


	8. Chapter 8

"-So they're using you as bait to get the real Kylie McWallis here," Jacques concluded, almost out of breath as he paced the room. Rebecca lay sprawled out on the couch, apparently calm as she listened to the alarmed young man. "You don't care?" he accused, whirling around when he got no answer.

"She's not going to come," said Rebecca matter-of-factly with a small shrug. She leaned her head back and sighed, comforted in the thought. Jacques was about to say something when a loud beep sounded from the case on his belt. He took out the device, and his eyes widened. From his screen he watched the live feed from one of the security cameras: Caty walking out of the back entrance of SDC.

"What _is _she doing?" he murmured, automatically speed-dialing her.

_"Now, Jacques?" _she said, picking up. _"I'm busy."_

"I know, that's why I'm concerned. Where are you going?" he said it casually, but there was a special undertone to the innocent question. She never left the building from this time, ever.

Caty's reply was one of annoyance. _"Stalker much? Why does it matter to you where I'm going?"_

"I'm just wondering," Jacques replied sternly.

_"I have to drive now, can't talk, bye." _

She hung up before Jacques could say anything more. He snapped his phone shut angrily, and waited for Rebecca to comment. However, she just sat up on the couch, watching him. Figuring she wasn't going to say anything, he walked to the door. "I have to follow someone," he explained quietly without turning around, one hand on the metal sliding door. "I have a bad feeling about this, and my instincts are usually right. I'll…I'll come back to see you later."

Rebecca's face became very business-like; without any emotion at all, she gave one nod. Jacques wondered what she must be thinking as the door closed shut behind him, sealing the soundproof room.

Caty glanced into her rearview mirror for the fifth time that minute. "_What _is that guy doing on my tail?" she growled. The sleek black vehicle had tinted windows, so she had no hope of seeing who it was. She looked back down at the road, pushing down the sneaking suspicion that it was Jacques. _Why would he care where I'm going?_ She took the exit to the freeway, and the black car followed suit. There was no doubt in her mind that SDC had sent someone to watch her. Was she a suspect? And what for? She wasn't even doing anything wrong! She was only picking up a kid and taking her…to…SDC…

She didn't know how the girl would get past security there. She needed admission, but guest clearance could only come from being approved by Shrinks; and if _Clint _couldn't know she was coming, Caty was quite sure Margie didn't want _Shrinks_ to know either. She pulled off the highway and cruised along a series of busy roads. Along the way, the black car turned down another street, out of sight. _Good, _thought Caty. She coasted into the high school pickup loop, and spotted a forlorn-looking figure in a brown hoodie and jeans. The hood was up, but as Caty rounded the loop she caught brown eyes and frizzy short hair to match. She had Clint's sharp, pointed nose and face structure. But there was just no way of knowing.

Setting a hand on the concealed pistol hidden on her belt under her jacket, Caty unlocked the car and stepped out, walking around to look at the girl. "There's just too much risk here," she said sternly, looking down at the kid. "If you've got nothing to hide, you'll let me do a weapons search." Margie acquiesced with a dip of her head, and Caty did a quick search, patting down her jeans. "Turn out your pockets."

The girl obeyed, and Caty frowned lightly, finding nothing. "Take off your jacket."

Margie looked like she was going to complain, but crossed her arms and pulled off her hoodie. She handed it to Caty, who shook it out. She gave it back and Margie hastened to put it back on. "Alright," huffed Caty, gesturing toward the car. "You've got no bombs on you, or any other weapons. Are you seriously saying you're Clint's sister and you want to go to SDC?" she practically hissed, glancing around in case there was anyone in hearing distance.

Margie stuffed her hands in her pockets. "That's me."

"Ridiculous," the other scoffed, walking around her car and opening the door before sliding in. Caty jerked her thumb at the back seat, and Margie got in that way even though there was room in the front.

"Thank you," she said quietly after she'd closed the door, buckling her seat belt.

"You're welcome," Caty replied. "Nice to finally meet you, Margie."

"I know it must be eating you up to know what I'm up to," said Margie as they turned onto the main road, "but I just need to say that I can't tell you, so please don't ask."

Caty opened her mouth to reply, when suddenly "Ode to Joy" pierced the air. Caty ignored it, until it began playing again; whoever was calling her had called twice. "Ugh." Still driving, she leaned down to get her phone from her purse, between the seats. "You don't mind, do you? I promise we won't have an accident." She picked it up, and without looking at the caller ID, hit send. "Hello?"

_"Where are you taking her?"_ It was Jacques' calm, scarily-firm voice. _"I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be in school."_

Caty couldn't help being just a little irritated. "So it was _you _following me! Don't you have anything _better _to do? What does it matter where I'm taking her? I just picked her up!"

"I know; I was there. Pull over."

"Are you seriously telling me what to do?" She cried, swerving to avoid hitting a crossing squirrel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the black Porsche Carrera GT tailing her.

"Yes, I am. If you don't pull over now, in SDC's eyes you'll be seen as a traitor. Swallow your ridiculous pride and stop the car, Catherine Greenway."

Caty hung up the phone and howled in frustration, turning the wheel so the car crossed the white line on the right side of the road.


End file.
